


Who boy these bitches are just straight up not having a good time

by That_one_edgy_writer



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Intersex, Masturbation, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Rough Sex, Trans Character, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_one_edgy_writer/pseuds/That_one_edgy_writer
Summary: Some one shots involving some human skeletons
Kudos: 1





	Who boy these bitches are just straight up not having a good time

**Author's Note:**

> Swapfell sans- rubus  
> Swapfell papyrus- ursus
> 
> They're not related in this, but I'm fine with fontcest

He was truly pathetic.

That lovely pulsing sensation in his crotch made him want to find Ursus and demand that they bend him over the arm of the sofa, the way he could feel his iron grip on his control slowly slipping from his grasp. His legs were trembling, the need to release himself sneaking up on him. Rubus couldn't relax, knowing that the moment he did he'd be sitting in a puddle of his own shame. Delightfully humiliated, and the thought was oh so tempting. 

If it weren't for the fact that sofa cushions were incredibly difficult to clean, and he didn't want to toss gasoline onto a spark that was steadily growing. His shorts rubbed against his legs in a way that made him all too aware of how short they were, his decision to stick with long sleeves and wear a pair of comfortable ~~_indecent, his mind helpfully supplied_~~ short shorts with a pair of knee high socks one that he now regretted. Rubus made a beeline for the bathroom the moment that the door opened, closing it behind him and sighing as he tugged down the waistband of the thin fabric.

His face flushed when he realized the dim throb was still there when the stream trickled to a stop.

He snuck a hand into his pants, for once grateful that his nails were so thin he needed to take a break from getting them touched up every few weeks. A finger slid inside of him, and his breathing became erratic when he added a second one. Rubus tilted his hips a bit, trying to find that perfect spot and he sharply inhaled when his finger barely brushed against it. 

He needed more but his fingers were far too small to give him proper relief on his own, so he tucked his cock back into his shorts and tried to calm himself. 

His pulse was still racing when Ursus finally came home, and a single look from them had Rubus rushing to the room they reserved for _~~the only reason they stuck around~~_ sex without a second thought. When Ursus lied back against the bed and glanced at him pleadingly Rubus immediately leaned forward, taking the formidable member into his mouth, then his throat with a moan. 

Fellatio was always a particular favorite of his, having his mouth filled and being capable of making someone else feel even half as good as having something to idly lick at and suck on. Ursus was so much larger than he was, both in regards to his stature and the deliciously pulsing shaft in his mouth, down his throat. He began to bob his head as much as he could manage to without gagging on Ursus' dick. _**"Fuck,"**_ The word was breathy, and Ursus' voice was shaking. "What's got ya so worked up, my lil' Ruby?"

Oh, that voice was wonderfully terrible. 

Rubus swallowed around the cock in his mouth and began to squirm. Ursus knew just how weak he was for nicknames and endearments, and made sure to abuse that knowledge each time Rubus was needy. **_"Did ya find somethin' else ya wanted to try out, my lil' raspberry?"_ **His face flushed with shame and he pulled back enough to shake his head before he continued to savor the cock inside of his mouth.

By the time he pulled back and began to lower himself on the large member both were panting and squirming, and when he sank down enough to reach Ursus' ballsack, fondling it with a smug smirk, Ursus had already begun subtly canting his hips up. Rubus cried out when Ursus turned him onto his back, arms wrapped around his neck as he tossed his own head back to enjoy the rougher pace that was being set. Demands for more, rougher, faster, were met eagerly. 

The fluffy gown that he had managed to slip on before Ursus had walked into the room seemed to fluff up with each thrust, making the slick noises coming from the two seem even more lewd than they were. ** _"Fuck, I love ya darlin' ."_**

Hot tears rolled down Rubus' cheeks, as he allowed himself to believe what felt like a lie.

Once, the way Rubus clenched around his lover at the sentiment may have been because of a soft affectionate feeling that dulled his mind and made him scrabble at Ursus' back.  _ The disgusting slimy feel coiling in his chest that made him want to lurch had him clinging onto Ursus and scratching at their back. _

Once Rubus would have repeated such a thing with his own sweet nothing added to it.  _ It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he'd only be ridiculed for succumbing to the lies he told himself later. _

  
  


Now all that it left was anguish. The ache in the center of his chest that made him wish to curl up and cry even on the best of days, when Ursus allowed him a small affectionate gesture such as holding hands. 

Now it only made Rubus turn his head and squint his eyes shut and the other was, thankfully, unaware of the change. They took it as a sign to wrap a few fingers around Rubus' cock and begin to jerk at it, smirking when the pitch of his voice grew louder.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Later, when Rubus was clean and changed into more comforting clothing he would find the strength to trudge to the bathroom and brush his teeth. He would notice that the tears persisted after Ursus left for his own room.

Later, when Rubus was sipping at a glass of water would he take note of how much his hands shook even without Ursus' silver tongue to fluster him.

Later, when Rubus was sipping from a wine glass and staring up at the sky would he notice the way his throat felt as if it were closing in on itself.

Later would he identify the feeling as grief, of a love gone wrong, beyond salvageable, of betrayal. 

Later, would he fish out a small wooden box and read over the letters he kept. Each one with horrid handwriting, telling Rubus how much he was loved.

Eventually Rubus would pick up each piece of his facade that felt as if it were broken into shards akin to glass, pricking him each time he managed to get a bit of himself under control.

Eventually Rubus would stare at himself in the mirror and break each piece into irreparably small fragments when his gaze moved from its usual spot on his waist to his face, puffy from crying and far too vulnerable for his liking.  _ Father always told him that he was too emotional. _

Eventually Rubus would wash his face and look at each mark that Ursus' mouth made, checking the bites for signs of infection. 

Eventually Rubus would grab a candle and make his way to his beautifully out of tune piano in the garage, running his fingers along the wood until he stood before it. The splinters stuck in his fingers felt like home.

Eventually Rubus would allow his fingers to fall into a familiar rhythm, ignoring the sheet music and playing until his fingers were sore and his stoic expression was back in place. The anxiety of touching something so soft, so lovingly made, would never fade. The anticipation of pain a mockery to the short man.

For now Rubus would wait for his haggard breathing to slow.

For now Rubus would begin to make dinner, painstaking attention focused on the mozzarella slowly melting onto the meat and noodles. 

For now Rubus would curl into himself and wait for the timer to sound off. Tears wouldn't fall, no. He was still shaking far too much to be at ease enough for them to trail down his cheeks.

For now Rubus would brush through his hair, the repetitive motion almost meditative.

For now he would hope, while he was still emotional and capable of tapping into that vulnerability.

A small smile graced his face when Rubus brother — his chosen brother. The one whom Rubus had given his blessing to take on his abandoned name. — draped a quilt across his shoulders and handed him a few hair ties.

It still stung, when he was left alone in the kitchen, though not as much as it would if his brother were not present.

It seems he was growing used to the pain.


End file.
